As the tiny infant lay there unprotected in the driving snow she was altered by the gaining of a few stats.
Skill points was something that piqued her interest and as soon as she thought of them a truly monumental list of skills appeared that she thumbed through mental looking for life preservers to cling to in her current predicament.
She found two skills in particular, cold resistance and hunger resistance. When she tried to select them a warning came up.
She of course said yes hoping to fight off the reaper’s scythe just a little long when he system intoned.
The idea was appealing to Hoglah, there was nothing to eat except souls in hell and her life in the tribe had been strictly regulated, hedonism for power sounded excellent to her.
Feeling pleasant and having a faint glimmer of relaxation for the first time since becoming conscious she was shocked as her bowels instantly released a loud and resounding flatulence that was influenced by her emotions to induce charm, though she had not realized this yet. What she did realize was that boney, dry fingers warped her into a warm embrace, she was carried by that embrace to a warm hearth though drafts could still be felt telling her this was not an especially well built dwelling.
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A hard and leathery pacifier entered her mouth and a sickly thin fluid that was almost like water entered her mouth and she wondered what it was her status intoning the answer.
She wasn’t full sure how to use it, but thinking about what she wanted had worked so far.
Hoglah had not cared, she would survive even if she had to drink this woman dry to do it, she’d done worse in her afterlife. She was taken by surprise as this proved a challenging task, the leathery nipple in her mouth grew significantly larger, leathery and as if tainted by the depravity had taken a chunky texture. This eventually suited her just fine because she’d begun to teeth and chew as she milked, she eventually realized how venomous her mouth must be as a second leathery nipple slipped in.
“Thirsty boy...drink up!” She heard the vrone say as she was cradled. It was the first time since her father had died that she’s felt paternal love and thought she need to be careful for the first time not to use this woman up so she could have this every day when she was grown up...and maybe more. She hadn’t noticed her depravity slowly ticking up with each suckle.
It was a week before Hoglah could finally open her eyes and the first thing she did was cry. She’d surmised it was a week by the woman’s sleep cycles. This sweet old woman who saved her looked nearly dead, a hunchback, skeletal visage with pendulous breasts constantly bubbling and squirting milk which Hoglah could no longer imagine being without. It seemed the secret of this otherwise unappealing yellow and chunky milk was that it was rich in curses, but who was this old woman and why was she so full of curses? Hoglah had eaten nearly a dozen curses and it seemed it had shriveled her little saviour to the point.
“Interesting” she thought that a corrupted version of skills can be bought with depravity and so she did.
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